Yue Festival
by Ryuki Rose
Summary: Prompted to go to a festival, Korra meets her "match." One shot.


_According to Chinese legend, the deity in charge of "the red thread" is believed to be Yuè Xià Lǎo (__月下老__, often abbreviated to "Yuèlǎo" [__月老__]), the old lunar matchmaker god who is also in charge of marriages. - Wikipedia_

xxx

"The what?"

"The Yue Festival is today!" Ikki chirped, clapping her hands together and bouncing on her heels. At eleven, she hadn't lost any of the sweet hyperactivity over the last four years of Korra's intermittent residence on Airbender Island.

"What's that?" Korra cocked an eyebrow, her mango-orange halfway to her mouth.

"_What_! Korra, you've lived here for four years!"

"This is the first spring I haven't had Avatar stuff get in the way, though." Korra pointed out, placing the fruit back onto her platter, "So, what's this Yue Festival?"

"Great-Uncle Sokka established the festival in honor of Yue, the moon goddess and his first love." Jinora replied, barely even glancing from the book she read, "It's a celebration in her honor and for couples."

At the last factoid, Korra wrinkled her nose. Though years had passed since she and Mako had been together, the young Avatar hadn't gotten over the firebender. In her heart, a mixture of longing and frustration clenched at her chest. She ignored it and flippantly waved her hand, "Pass."

"But, Korra!" Ikki leaned over the table, eyes wide and face flushed from the excitement of potential romance, "You meet your fate at the Yue Festival!"

"...what."

"The red string mythology, Korra."

"Oh." She had no clue, but Jinora's tone made Korra feel as if it were common knowledge. The Avatar made a mental note to read up on it, though she knew she'd forget later on.

"Mommy and daddy met at the Yue Festival! It was _fate_!" A sparkle twinkled in Ikki's eyes as she stood up, hands clasped and a wistful sigh on her lips. Korra cocked her eyebrows, wondering why Chief Bei Fong hadn't annihilated the festivities for the festival. Then again, she probably had attempted, to no avail. Korra had little time to think as Ikki chimed in again, "What about your fate, Korra? Don't you think it's time to give someone else a chance?"

Korra focused on the pouting image of Ikki, genuine concern in the eleven-year-old's eyes. The young woman shifted uneasily under that gaze. Four years of pining after a firebender, four years of turning down suitors and potential flings, four years of being alone. Pursing her lips, Korra looked away from the airbender, feeling self-pity swelling in her breast, "Tenzin set you up on this, didn't he?"

Ikki's expression said it all and, now, it was Jinora's turn again. The older girl put her book down with a light tap, and caught Korra's eyes with a gentle look, "Father is worried about you, Korra. He wants to see you happy."

"I'm the Avatar and as the Avatar, I have responsibilities that don't allow time for dating."

"The point of an Avatar is for them to experience life as Spirits cannot." Jinora countered, her voice sturdy and firm. For the brief moment, Korra could see Pema's determination in the oldest Airbaby. "You need to experience the spectrum of human emotion, Korra. Love, loss, moving on, closure, or simply something fun and light."

Korra colored at the fact that a fourteen-year-old was lecturing her on experiencing relationships, whether meaningful or one-night stands. Perhaps Pema had more of a hand in this than Tenzin.

"I'm not going to take relationship advice from a fourteen-year-old." Korra growled, standing up in a huff.

"I might be young, but at least I'm not pining after my first childhood crush." Jinora replied, cool and collected, returning to her book.

Korra felt the flush claw even hotter at her cheeks, clenching her hands. The young airbender was already immersed in her book and any retort – all of which came up short in Korra's mind – would have been immature. Instead, the Avatar opted for storming from the Air Temple, finding Naga, and venturing into the city.

After a quiet moment, Ikki sat back down at the table, propped her elbows onto the surface and cradled her chin in her hands. Her eyes darted from the entrance to her older sister, waiting for attention. Finally, Jinora peered up from her book, raising an eyebrow, "What?"

"Do you think Korra knows she's really predictable?" Ikki inquired, a broad and mischievous grin curling across her lips.

"No, Ikki," Jinora returned her sister's smile with a slight grin of her own. She turned her eyes back to her book before adding, "She hasn't a clue."

xxx

Whatever force pulled Korra to the festival, the Avatar didn't know. She just seemed to be drawn there, whether to prove Jinora wrong or simply due to the fact _everyone_ streamed in that particular direction. Even Naga seemed driven toward the area.

As the Avatar and her polar-bear dog approached, Korra realized something seemed awry. It took her a few seconds, before she realized the peculiarity. There was a veritable wall set up around the festival. It wasn't open, but closed off, with many entryways manned by various workers. Her eyebrows dipped into a 'v', confused about the security.

It became clear as she approached.

A young woman, in her late teens, jogged up to her, a basket of strings in her hands. She thrust the basket up, toward Korra's seated position on Naga. At Korra's confused look, the girl explained, "You pick a string and you may find your soulmate! There's pieces of papers attached to the string; each has a number and an animal. You ask people what their number is and they must return with their animal. If you match, the Spirits have connected you two!"

The Avatar stared at the basket, then glanced back into the smiling, freckled face of the worker. Humoring the silly tradition, Korra plucked a random string from the basket, withdrawing it. A little shocked that no strings seemed tangled, the Avatar glanced at her number and animal: 23, Artic Wolf.

As soon as a string was picked, the festival worker scurried away, dishing out romantic destinies to other civilians. Korra continued into the bulk of the crowd, eyes flickering back and forth. The decorations were all varying hues of pink or red, with a few splatters of yellow here and there. Moons hung all around, probably in tribute to Yue. The celestial body seemed out of place among the warm colors, though.

"Well, if it isn't the love-lorn Uhvatar." A slick and oily voice brought a swing of familiarity to the front of Korra's brain. She turned, caught with image of the still pro-bending Tahno. Still tall, lean, and with a gangly swimmer's build; still with that stupid 'coif' as he called it; still skeezy. Yet, Korra couldn't shake the short moments of vulnerability, of fear, of depression when he'd lost his bending years ago. Their dynamic altered, especially after she returned his bending, but Tahno tried incessantly to remain like the egotistical git he'd painted himself as.

"And it's the boy that never grew up." Korra slid off Naga's back, crossing her arms and grinning at the acquaintance.

Tahno theatrically glanced around, overplaying his search while twisting from left to right, scouring the crowds, "Oh, is Bolin around?"

Korra merely replied with a snort.

"So, what's your number, Avatar?" Tahno turned his eyes back to Korra, dangling his own string up as further indication to what he meant.

The water tribe woman cocked an eyebrow; she thought Tahno's interest in her had died out years ago. Shrugging, Korra replied, "Twenty-three. Got a match?"

Tahno's eyes lit up for a split second, but he masked his excitement with a drawl, "You're supposed to ask what my animal is."

"Is that the same as agreeing to those private lessons, Tahno?" Korra grinned, "Do you really think we're a match?"

"Haha, Uhvatar." He pursed his lips, crossing his arms and shifting his weight with impatience, "How un-uhvatarlike, not participating in a tradition set up by spirits."

"_Fine_, what's your animal?"

"Rabbit-Ape."

"Well, shucks, we're not a match." Korra snapped her fingers, putting her hands on her hips. For a brief second, she felt guilt as disappointment tinged Tahno's blue eyes. Shaking off her negative mojo, Korra glanced about the festival, eyes landing on a particular stand. Glancing back at Tahno, she threw him a cheeky smirk, "C'mon, city-boy, let's see how you stomach some authentic Swamp cuisine."

xxx

He hated the Yue festival. Abhorred it, really. Even before the accident, Noatak despised the celebration. The thought of spirits controlling one's love-life, and the fact that Sokka – a traitorous non-bender who did nothing to help those not graced with bending – established the festival, made his stomach churn.

Without a resume and not very fond of using his bending abilities, Noatak had a difficult time finding an occupation. The scars put off potential employers, too. "Reputable" people didn't have scars, the honorable Fire Lord Zuko aside.

So, he was stuck with underground jobs, jobs others felt were beneath themselves. Trash pickup, dirty odd jobs, the occasional short-lived (but decent) work. The decent ones had run dry and, here he was, sweeping up wrappers and crud left by benders and civilians. With a cap pulled low over his face, Noatak was at least given the ability to hide his face from the view of the festival-goers. A child, though, would stop and stare, slack-jawed, before Noatak's snarl made them scurry away.

"-the Unagi was pregnant, so it was just a big misunderstanding..." That voice.

Noatak froze, grasping his broom tightly. His knuckles whitened as his ears scrambled to pick out just where that voice was coming from.

"So you've gotten quite experienced, Uhvatar?" That sleazy probender. Noatak narrowed his eyes, his gaze soon sweeping across a nearby noodle stand. A couple sat on the bench, both familiar to the old revolutionist. One, a former victim and, the other, the Avatar.

He felt a painful grip at his chest and tilted his head into the shadows, to obscure his features. Shameful and silly, Noatak almost felt if he stared too long, if his memories replayed how much he had paid attention to Korra's life after the war, she'd sense it. She'd look up and see him and..._know_.

Just as Noatak's gaze fell on the two, a young man approached. He wrung a string between his hands, sidling up to Korra. The old man winced at the boy's hesitance, the awkwardness that transpired, the utter defeat when he and the Avatar weren't a match, even in number. Noatak pressed his lips together, trying to suppress a sneer. He turned away to continue his humiliating janitorial duties, sweeping and keeping his head down. If he didn't draw attention to himself, the Avatar and her friend would never notic-

"Hey, you've got something stuck to your boot."

Noatak nearly jumped out of his skin, but he calmed his instant reaction. He wasn't going to spin around, he wasn't going to face her. No. She would recognize him, she would scream, she'd kill him. Instead, he simply bent double, raising his leg up to cross it over his opposite knee. He pulled the trash from his sole, grunting, "Thanks."

Just as he bent to toss the piece of string away, another incessant festival servant scurried up. She pried the string from his fingers, scolding him, "No! Don't throw it away! The spirits gave you a string _for a reason_!"

Noatak snorted and rolled his eyes, slightly shocked that Korra mirrored his sarcastic expression.

"Do either of you have a number 23?" The festival girl asked, a broad smile on her dark features as she turned to the Avatar and the pro-bender.

They both nodded, somewhat deadpanned.

"Ooh! What animal?" The woman nearly crooned. Noatak shifted uneasily. This was stupid. Why was he even standing here?

"Rabbit-Ape."

"Arctic Wolf."

The shriek the young woman emitted was anything and everything unholy. It grated on Noatak's very bones. The man could only imagine which one of these two schmucks she was trying to match him up with. It didn't matter.

"It's you! You're _his_ one and he's _yours_!" The woman nearly danced as she grappled for Korra's hand. She thrust the appendage at Noatak, but he didn't move to accept any such offering.

The pro-bender sniggered, "Well, looks like you've found a perfect match, Korra."

The Avatar didn't miss a beat, though. She whipped her gaze toward the man, "I can appreciate a man that can take out the trash. You wouldn't understand, though, Tahno."

Oh, right, the kid's name was Tahno.

Noatak nearly jumped out of his skin, again, as Korra's arm looped through his. Vaguely, he heard the inane female festival worker sigh romantaically. When had he become such an easy target? He tensed, barely hearing the words that came from her mouth, "I'll just go and enjoy the festival with my match."

"I have work..." Noatak muttered, moving to slip his arm from Korra's grasp.

The Avatar didn't yield to him. Of course it wouldn't be that easy, "Well, I'm the Avatar and you're my red string. Let's fox-rabbit trot."

"Bu-"

"_Avatar_." Korra pointed to herself with her free hand. Noatak scowled, noting the Avatar hadn't lost any of her egotistical charm, "I'm sure your boss'll understand, mister."

"Tell that to my rent and bills. You wouldn't understand, though." He muttered, but allowed Korra to steer him through the crowd. If he got paid to spend time with the Avatar, so be it. He couldn't imagine any spiritual whackjob denying the Avatar of her – extravagant and stupid – fancies.

Korra stopped dead, her arm relinquishing her hold on his in order to cross over her chest with it's companion, "Hey, what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You are the Avatar, you've had _everything_ handed to you." He replied, aloof and without care. There were plenty of Avatar Korra critics out there. Though, over the last year, they had lessened, but they truly attacked with fervor, even soon after the end of the original Equalists.

"I have not!"

"Do you happen to pay rent on Airbender Island?" He inquired, ignoring the voice in the back of his head to let it go.

"No, but I'm technic-"

Noatak didn't care, he continued forth, "Do you contribute to any bills?"

"No, bu-"

"And what of the gifts given to you, _simply_ for being the Avatar?" He pressed, gesturing his hand in an emphasis of exasperation at such an abuse of power. Noatak was certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Korra accepted free food, free clothes, free everything at the expense of taxpayers.

The Avatar pursed her lips tightly, quiet and waiting. She glared at him, a fire flickering in her blue eyes. The look made Noatak pause, made him rethink his words and his actions. He had become carried away and, now, she was leering. What if she realized who he was? There had been no inkling of recognition, but that didn't mean one wouldn't slowly dribble into Korra's mind.

"Are you finished?" Noatak pursed his lips, but remained quiet. Korra nodded, counting off on her fingers "I haven't accepted freebies for a good four years and have since paid the services back," Since the end of the Equalist war, noted Noatak, "Airbenders are exempt from taxes, since I am the Avatar and therefore an airbender, they extended that policy to me, so Tenzin and his family need nothing from me other than assistance during the fruit harvesting seasons." Noatak couldn't argue much with the policy, especially since the young woman apparently did work. Korra paused, putting her hands on her hips, her jaw set, "I'd also like to remind you, I've been traveling the world, putting ends to skirmishes, terrors, and spiritual upheavals. I may not be the best, but I have been doing my duties as Avatar. Be so kind as to remember that next time you wish to demean me!"

The Avatar added no more and turned on her heel, storming through the parting crowd. Noatak watched her, debating on if he should follow or return to work. The former would allow him more time to slack off while on the company payroll – as ironic as he realized that was, he had many more years of work than Korra had - but the latter would be more sensible and responsible.

"Are you coming or what?" Korra's voice, a few years away, roused him from his internal debate. She stood in the crowd, civilians parting and flowing around her, with her hands on her hips and a fire in her gaze. In that moment, Noatak realized how much she had grown. No longer was she just a pup of an Avatar, a teenager with silly notions and inane determination. She'd grown and matured and, standing in the ocean of festival-goers, Noatak was somewhat stunned he hadn't noted it before. The way she carried herself, with confidence, and the way she had spoken to him moments earlier.

He stopped those thoughts, bitterly scowling. People aged and grew, why was it such a big deal that Korra had? So she didn't accept freebies, _anymore, _she had allowed it at one point. Although, it was soon after his revolution she stopped. That arose curiosity in Noatak's mind. Had he, in some way, influenced Korra? Were the memories of his time as her archenemy permanently latched into her mind as they stuck in his? Did she carry his prior identity with her, always, while he had kept a close eye on her adventures as an Avatar?

His stomach lurched in a mixture of emotions, flattered and guilty and shamed and warmth. The second confused him.

"Well, come _on_!" Korra's demands roused him again and, before he knew it, Noatak's feet propelled her through the crowd toward the Avatar. It wasn't just his feet betraying him, though. As he neared, Noatak felt his skin itch with anticipation, felt a bubbling excitement in the pit of his stomach, and – inexplicably – felt a pull toward her.

Stupid, superstitious, a product of the festival.

"Look, I'm sorry I'm pulling you away from your _riveting_ work," Kora began, grudgingly, not looking Noatak in the eye, "But my friend wasn't helping my mood. He's had a puppy-kitten crush on me for a long time. I came here to get out of the house, not to really find my match." Her tone became soft, hinting at a sadness she wasn't relaying. Korra looked at him now and, briefly, he thought he saw a glint of recognition there. It faded rather quick, "This whole festival is dumb, personally, but whatever gave you that string – accident, coincidence, or the spirits – I don't mind having a new face to hang out with."

Stunned, again, Noatak stared. She _had_ matured, so much. Not just in personality. Now his eyes noted the physical changes. A little taller, a little curvier, her face a little more aged and a few new scars on her arms – and perhaps elsewhere – from previous battles. He swallowed just as his gaze began to trail a little further. No, he couldn't. He no longer wore a mask. It was much easier to track his gaze. He forced his gaze away, standing there like a limp-armed statue.

"I know, my bust is pretty tempting, huh?" Korra's joking tone and her insight made a flush bite across Noatak's cheeks. She _noticed_. Damn, she had even grown more observant with the years. If she had been this age during their conflicts, she would have been much more formidable and challenging.

"It is not simply your bust that is tempting, Avatar." Noatak replied, averting his gaze again. What prompted the words, he didn't know, until he glanced back at Korra. A surprising blush crept across her cheeks, just like the smile that tugged at her lips. Noatak felt a warmth pool into his stomach and a smugness fill his chest. Wherever those prideful emotions came from, he didn't know, but he didn't mind them.

"You remind me of someone, but I don't know why." Korra laughed, placing a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she looked him up and down. Her eyes narrowed, as if trying to piece together the clues.

"Should I dare ask who?" Noatak tensed, his heart twisting in his chest.

Her gaze softened as it returned to his eyes. That smile was still on her lips but with a sadder tinge, "Someone I inexplicably miss."

"Inexplicably?"

"Well, I don't think it's normal for people to miss their adversaries." Korra replied and Noatak felt his heart nearly burst from shock. Noatak took a step back, without thinking. That, alone, made Korra look closer. She stepped closer, narrowing her eyes and looking over his scarred features, letting her eyes trail over his body, once again. Unable to breathe, unable to move, Noatak knew it was only seconds before she confirmed it, using whatever evidence her mind spotted.

Once her eyes widened and her mouth fell agape, alarms went off in the man's head. He should run, and hide, and never return. He should be weaving through the crowd to disappear. Yet, he stayed.

"You're A-" Korra paused, glancing around, and returning her gaze to Noatak as she revised her statement. Quietly, she sputtered, "You're alive."

"And you've _missed_ me." He accused, still rooted to the spot, but unable to meet her gaze. Noatak shifted enough to cross his arms and glare off into the distance.

A silence swarmed them as Korra mulled her thoughts and Noatak waited for some retaliation. She'd bend him, arrest him, send him to his death. That was the only thing he could imagine she'd do for the horrors he committed in the past. The people he hurt, the fear he induced, the fright he fed into a city of sheep. In a way, Noatak knew he deserved harsh punishment, but his will to live fought against the responsibility.

"Well, my offer still stands."

Noatak's gaze flicked back to Korra, shock evident in his expression, "Wh-what?"

"My offer stands. You're free to spend the day with me." Korra replied, holding out her hand. A smile curved across her lips and Noatak felt that warmth bubble in the pit of his guts again. He swallowed, his eyes trailing from her proffered hand, to her eyes. He sought deception, lies, anything to tell him the Avatar was tricking him.

Sincerity was all he found.

Swallowing, Noatak stared at her hand and, hesitantly, took it. Her palm was warm and soft against his calloused hands and he felt a surge of excitement as her fingers closed around his.

Korra tugged him low and he obliged, allowing his ear to be level with her lips. Warm breath danced across his neck, taunting him in wild ways, as she whispered, "I've missed you, Noatak. Help me figure out why. _Please_."

With her so close, her musk filled his nose. Fruit from the island, a citrusy bath wash, sweat, and her own personal scent. Without thinking, Noatak brought an arm around her, resting it on the small of her back. Between them, memories blossomed. Fights and words spoken, anger and rage and the glory of feeling alive after each tumult. Noatak swallowed down the guilt and shame that soured his guts.

"I will try," He replied, holding her close to him, "The only reason I fathom is madness, though."

"Yours or mine?" Korra replied and he felt her grin against his cheek.

Noatak mulled on his answer for a moment, looking back at his lonely years of toil. His brother was gone, passing away after a month of being in a coma. Noatak was alone, no family, no followers, no friends. Even if he and the Avatar were nothing more than companions drawn together by fate, nothing more than a farce thanks to coincidence, it somehow made him feel better to be around her and to have her in his arms, so close. His mind stumbled upon the only viable answer before whispering to her, "I feel we both are insane."

"Probably," Korra replied, pulling away from him and smiling. Their fingers still entwined, she led him out of the darkness and into the light and, willingly, he followed. He didn't know what they'd be due for or what would come of this – possibly temporary – union, yet he was happy and excited. For the first time, an emptiness that masqueraded in his soul felt lifted. Noatak stared at Korra, wondering if she felt the same.

Above the two, the partially transparent moon hung in the blue sky, seeming to watch them with satisfaction.


End file.
